A Gentle Fan of Paper

I wriggled out of the wool slipper and padded softly across the floorboards toward the light by the hallway console. Resting against the dark table leg was an accordion-pleated paper fan made of heavy, cream-colored cardstock, tied loosely with a thin strip of cotton twill. I paused, touching the crisp folded edge with both front paws before leaning in with quiet patience. With slow nudges of my chin, I guided the folded card outward along the wood. The pleats expanded with a soft, dry flutter, opening like miniature ridges across the grain. When the draft drifted past, the paper held its neat, steady arch, casting tiny striped shadows right over my toes.